


be my escape

by falloutmars



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:21:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutmars/pseuds/falloutmars
Summary: When Betty's home life gets tough, she heads towards the border of the town's two sides. There, she finds more than the escape she was looking for.
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	be my escape

**Author's Note:**

> title is inspired by the 1975’s be my mistake

Betty wants to escape. 

She wants to run away and never come back. Her mother is far too controlling, her father a convicted serial killer, locked away, and her sister at a psychiatric hospital at an unknown location attempting to be deprogrammed from the cult she joined. She has no friends at school - everyone conveniently distanced themselves from her when news of her ‘crazy’ family got out. She heard whisperings at school that she was crazy, just like the rest of them. Prolonged stares in her direction never left. And they didn’t only come from her classmates. 

School is hell, home is hell. So she wanders. 

One day, everything gets particularly bad. Someone she used to consider a friend had spread false rumours about Betty being involved in her father’s crimes. This girl is the most popular is the school, so of course everyone believes her. The whisperings and stares get worse and worse, and to top everything off, her mother starts shouting at her for no apparent reason.

All Betty wants is someone to support her, show her some love and tell her that everything’s alright. 

She’d never get that from her mother though. So she goes. She simply leaves her house with a backpack full of snacks and books - nothing practical, she knows she can’t leave for that long - and walks. 

Taking a left out of her house, she walks towards the river that splits the town’s north and south sides. Her mother never allows her to walk near what she likes to call the ‘criminal side of town’ - or the southside. In reality, the six murders her father committed all happened on the northside and had no relation to the so-called criminal side of town. But at seventeen, her mother still manages to control most aspects of her life, even if Betty knows better than to believe the lies she gets told.

Today, even if it’s just one thing she can do that her mother wouldn’t allow, she’s going to do it. So to the southside of the river she goes. 

It’s a nice day, Betty thinks, in terms of the weather. The sky is clear and it’s sunny and warm, which she thinks is ironic considering how her day has gone so far. It is comforting, though. The sun reminds her of the family she could’ve had but never got. Strangely, she loves the sun. She loves the beams beating down on her, far too hot for most people, but not Betty. She imagines this is how a hug from someone who truly loves and cares about you feels. Luckily, she has a vivid imagination, so the warmth makes her feel less alone. 

She walks fast, allowing the heat to smother her, imagining it’s someone not something. It isn’t though, she knows that, but it’s nice to imagine that someone cares that much about her, that she isn’t just another one of the ‘crazy family’. Thinking about that, she reminds herself why she’s doing this. Even if it’s just temporarily, she’s getting away, she’s escaping. 

Her body quickly reminds her that she hasn’t eaten since the single slice of seeded toast her mother allowed her to have for breakfast this morning. But Betty cannot ever fully escape being the daughter of Alice Cooper, so she did pack snacks. They are all unhealthy though, things like chocolate bars and chips that Alice would never approve of if she knew. But she doesn’t, so Betty enjoys her small victory in the form of Reece’s Pieces as she continues walking towards the southside. 

The walk is quiet, much to her relief, but it’s unsurprising really. Thanks to her mother smearing the southside in the family newspaper - and only one in town - rather than reporting the _truth_ about the northside and her husband’s killings, people rarely travel from one side of the town to the other. They’re missing out, Betty thinks. It’s a lovely view coming up to the river, especially on a day like this. 

The walkway she walks along continues along the river both ways. Taking a left would lead her to the bridge that connects the two sides of the town, and right would lead her to follow the path that travels along the northside of the river. She doesn’t want to stay where she’s meant to be, so she takes a left.

Walking towards the bridge, she starts to feel anxious. She knows she shouldn’t be doing this, but then that’s exactly why she is doing it. She wanted to go, to escape, and that’s what she’s doing. 

She’s been walking for half an hour now, and the heat has started to get to her. There’s a bench in the middle of the bridge, so she heads towards it. It’s exactly on the border of the north and southside - somewhere she neither does or doesn’t belong, in a way. 

The bench is old and worn. It’s wooden, carved with initials like every other bench in town. It looks well used, appreciated for being there, even though it has no choice. Betty wonders what it would be like to feel like that. Appreciated. Having a purpose. 

She sits down, grateful for the shade from the trees that sit on the river’s edge. She sets her bag next to her and takes out her still-cool water bottle, taking a long drink. For once, she feels grateful that her mom always made her extra prepared for every eventuality. 

She stares at the river in front of her. It’s beautiful, she thinks, in an unconventional way. But there’s nothing extraordinary about it. The water is a dirty blue, with specks of sunlight reflections, bordered by tall green summertime trees. It’s unusually symmetrical for something so natural and Betty cannot help but be astonished by it.

For ten minutes, she sits staring at the view. Everything around is quiet, almost silent. No movement in the air, no people around, nothing at all. It’s peaceful. It’s everything Betty wants at this exact moment. To be alone with her thoughts, somewhere beautiful and peaceful. 

And she does think. She thinks about a lot. She thinks about her childhood, before everything went wrong. Her mother had always been over-bearing, controlling, but she had her sister to laugh it off with, and a father who was the exact opposite. It all makes sense now though. Her father was too busy planning his latest kill to care what his children were doing. That’s what tipped Polly over the edge and into a cult, Betty thinks. That’s why she now lives at a psychiatric hospital. Betty can understand that. It’s hard not to crave something else, something better, when life gets like theirs did, and the cult Polly joined promised better. Betty, ever the clever one, knew straight away that _better_ was just a false promise. It was too late though. Now, she’s paying the price - they both are. 

Then, Betty thinks about school. In a way, she feels like the serial killer. The stares and the whispers make her feel like she’s done something wrong, yet all she ever did was try to get it to stop. She endlessly investigated. Every lead, every small bit of information sometimes gathered in unethical ways, circled back round to nothing. She worked tirelessly, wanting the murders to stop as much as anyone else. Eventually, she caught him. Not in the way she’d thought, following a stream of leads to finally unmask who began to be known as the ‘black hood’. No. It happened in her lounge one evening. The town was on lockdown, so the four of them were stuck inside. Her father decided to show them some home movies. They weren’t quite the childhood videos she was expecting. They showed her grandmother coercing her father as a child to ‘continue the work his grandfather started’, which was killing so-called sinners. And he did, as the black hood.

Looking back on it, everything makes sense. Out of town meetings, never showing any interest in the family, outbursts of anger. Betty feels stupid that she didn’t realise earlier, but mostly, she feels guilty. She could’ve, _should’ve,_ spotted it sooner; it would’ve saved people’s lives. 

Maybe that’s why people at school look at her like they do. Maybe that’s why her mother treats her like she does. They all resent her. Things could’ve been different if _she_ was different. She tries not to dwell on it too much, especially on days like today, but it’s hard not to. She basks in the bad things she’s done. It’s just a part of who she is, she thinks. She’ll never truly be able to escape it. 

Perhaps ironically, that’s exactly what she is trying to do. Escape. That’s why she’s here, on the border of the two halves of town, not truly belonging in either. She planned on wandering to the southside like the lost soul she is, pretending to belong, doing something her mother would hate. Instead, she feels stuck on this bench watching the world go by. It’s both comforting and disquieting. Everything in her life feels like a weird mix of the two. She finds comfort where most people wouldn’t, but she supposes that must be because others don’t need to _find_ it, they just have it. And she finds anxiety and worry in almost every aspect of her life. It consumes her constantly. She feels like she’s only a shell of a person, nothing really inside except fear. 

At least here, there’s no one around. No one to stare at her, or whisper things they think she can’t hear, but really, it’s _all_ she hears. Now, all she can hear is the birds and she’s _alone_. 

She watches the water and the shapes the reflections of sunlight make as the water below it gently moves. It’s peaceful, but for some reason, her worries don’t lift. She thinks they’re intensified by the quiet. It leaves her vulnerable, alone with her own thoughts. Maybe that’s not what she wants after all, but she still can’t bring herself to leave. 

Allowing herself to spiral further, she wonders what life could’ve been like if she was different. If she would’ve caught her father earlier, prevented it from happening at all. If she would’ve stopped her sister from joining a cult, supported her instead of being selfish. If she would’ve been good enough for her mom. They could’ve been happy. They could’ve been a normal, happy family. She would’ve kept her friends, had teachers who didn’t look at her like she was the serial killer, not her father. Maybe she wouldn’t be on this bench right now. 

But Betty knows, deep down, that even if none of this had happened, that’s not to say they would’ve been happy. She knows that’s not how happiness works. Maybe she’d still be here, still wanting to escape. She’ll never know though, because this is what she’s been given. 

At that thought, she begins to cry. She told herself she wouldn’t, so she attempts to blink the tears away, but it doesn’t work. She gives up fighting and allows them to fall quietly. 

Through blurry eyes, she watches as a figure walks towards her from the left, the southside. It’s the first sign of another human being she’s seen since she stormed out of her house two hours ago. She rubs her eyes to see if it’s anyone she recognises, although she should’ve known better - northsiders and southsiders don’t know each other and they aren’t meant to get along, according to her mother. So, no, she did not recognise them.

As the figure gets closer, she can see that it’s a boy around her age. He’s wearing a beanie, which Betty thinks is strange considering how warm it is today, but she knows better than to judge a stranger she knows nothing about. He has sad eyes, one partially covered by a strand of hair that’s fallen out from under his beanie. 

She watches as he walks towards her, staring at the ground and avoiding her gaze. Wordlessly, he sits next to her on the bench. Betty wonders if he’s here to escape like she is. Judging from the look on his face, she’d guess he is. He doesn’t look like he wants to talk, so instead, she takes a KitKat out of her bag and offers it to him. He accepts with a small smile and she hopes she’s made his day at least slightly better. 

Going back to watching the river, she hears him unwrap the bar and take a bite. She glances over at him and sends a genuine smile his way. She finds herself wondering if he knows who she is, or her situation. She concludes that it doesn’t matter. He’s just a stranger from the other side of town she probably won’t see ever again.

Little does she know quite how wrong she is. 

–

The next few days are better. Betty thinks her day of escape and encounter with the boy from the southside gives her a different outlook on life. She tries to care less about the whispers and stares, her mother's attitude and _what if_ ’s. There are more important things to worry about, she realises now. 

So everyday, she goes to school, keeps her head down, does her work and ignores everyone else. All she’s there to do is to learn, not to make friends or socialise. That’s not Betty. She can do that at college, when she can start over. Everyday, she gets home, makes polite conversation with her mother and spends the majority of her time in her room. Her mother doesn’t shout as much, not since that day. Betty thinks that maybe she’s realised shouting isn’t helping anyone. 

That continues for two weeks. It’s just another day. Betty goes to school, like normal. Nothing remarkable happened, nothing that school would’ve reported home. So when she walks through the front door, ready to collapse on her bed for the evening, Alice shouting at her is not what she expects. 

Apparently, the prison called and Hal wants to be moved to a new prison in town. Alice isn’t happy about it - neither is Betty - but she seems to think it’s Betty’s fault. So she’s back to shouting.  
  
Remembering how calm and quiet the river was that day, she decides in a split second to go again. She doesn’t say anything, just grabs her bag and walks out the door. Alice yells after her but Betty just keeps walking, wanting to feel the peace once more. She doesn’t appreciate the journey as much this time. She practically runs there, thankful that it’s less hot today. 

When she reaches the bridge, Betty slows to a stop, panting slightly. It’s as beautiful as she remembers. The slight sparkle of the sun on the water and the tall trees casting shadows around her allows her to feel more peaceful. It’s the kind of calm that is comforting in a way that she can think without distractions, and truly _feel_. It’s not something she gets much of anymore. There always seems to be something else going on, people or events forcing her to repress her feelings. That works out, most of the time, but everyone has a limit. Today, Betty reached hers. 

But now, here by the water, she can feel again. 

She continues walking. She wants to take a moment to sit down and collect her thoughts, but she also wants to walk over to the southside today. Last time, she didn’t manage it, but today she’s determined. 

Her eyes fall to the bench. A familiar figure is sat on it - the southsider from the other week. He looks just as sad as before and he’s wearing the same beanie again, even though it’s still warm. Betty wonders if there’s a reason he wears it. Maybe it’s a comfort thing. She can relate to that. 

As she walks over to sit down, he looks up at her. His eyes are bloodshot - from crying, she thinks - and he gives her a small smile, before turning back to the river. Betty momentarily wonders if she should ask if he’s okay, if he wants to talk, but she can’t bring herself to, so she takes another candy bar from her bag and offers it to him. She hopes, again, that it makes his day a little better.

She eats a candy bar of her own while watching the river and thinking. The movement of the water fascinates her. It doesn’t move in waves like the sea, it flows gently away, more eloquent and peaceful. It’s almost soundless. Betty thinks it’s heavenly. 

Easily, she gets lost in thought. She thinks about her father. When he got arrested and imprisoned, the only prison available for him was downstate. For her and her mom, it was good, they were pleased. Neither wanted to visit him, and knowing he wasn’t nearby came as a comfort to them. But then a for-profit prison was opened in town and now he wants to be moved there. The thought of having him back in town, back near her, makes her feel awful. He can’t come back. Even though she promised herself she’d never visit him, she knows what he can be like. She thinks she can be stronger than his manipulative ways but she isn’t so sure about her mom. They’re broken enough as it is, let alone if Alice starts visiting him again. Betty worries that if that happens, Alice might not stop at just shouting. 

Her focus on the river is lost when her eyes fill with tears. Overwhelmed by sadness and worry, she can’t get them to stop. The boy next to her watches as she attempts to wipe them away. He looks concerned and she wonders why he’d be concerned for someone he’s seen just twice, but then she remembers that she felt the same both times she’s seen him. 

They talk for the first time that evening. He introduces himself as Jughead and asks if she’d like to talk. She politely declines, telling him that she’s okay as she remembers that her mother taught her that negative feelings should be hidden and a perfect front necessary. She returns the offer and he just sighs sadly, so she offers him half of her last candy bar. He accepts and they sit together in silence, watching as the sun disappears below the river. She never makes it to the southside, but she feels at peace as her and Jughead exchange goodbyes and walk in opposite directions. 

–

Betty finds herself visiting the bridge most days after the second time. Partly to see Jughead again - they seem to have an unofficial plan to meet there as of recently - but partly to escape.

Ever since the news of Hal’s transfer, everything got out of hand. Alice’s shouting got worse. It’s persistent now, Betty rarely getting a break from it. At school, there are more stares. The whispers aren’t whispers anymore. It’s loud and clear, like they want her to hear. And she does, she hears every word. She starts to believe what people say. Between classmates and her mother, every negative word eats away at her. 

Jughead becomes her escape. 

It takes her several weeks of meeting up to begin to trust him. Her mother's anti-southside attitude is more deep rooted in her than she thought, or perhaps finding out the serial killer she’d been investigating for months is her father is the reason for her trust issues. Regardless, she finds it difficult. But eventually, he earns her trust. 

He starts with telling her about himself while they watch the river. He’s also seventeen, attends Southside High, and is an aspiring writer. He doesn’t have any friends or family and finds the river tranquil. It helps him think, as well as inspire his writing. They sound quite similar, Betty thinks. Like they’d be good friends if there wasn’t an invisible wall separating them. Like they’d be good friends outside of this bridge and this bench. Instead, they only exist here, in this one place. Yet for both of them, that proves to be enough for now. 

He’s first to open up. Betty’s had a better day, but still goes to the bridge just to see him. He, on the other hand, had an awful day. She can tell from the way his eyes never quite meet hers. He stares at the horizon, eyes glazed over. As per tradition, she hands him a candy bar. This time, she voices her concern with it. And that’s when he starts to tell her. She learns about his mother leaving when he was eight, taking his baby sister. His alcoholic father, who is now in prison, never really looked after him, or even cared. At school, he’s demonised because of his family situation, because he won’t join his father’s gang, so he doesn’t have any friends anymore. Today, someone - he assumes a Serpent - told a teacher that he was living alone in his father’s trailer. He tells her that he doesn’t know what to do, that he’s going to get kicked out and sent to a foster home, that he can’t be away from the only connection to his father he has left. She doesn’t know what to say or do. As much as both wish it could be different, they’re stuck. Him on the southside and her on the northside. All she can do is be there for him in the moment, on their bench. 

After he tells her about his problems, Betty begins to trust him more and more. Most days, they spend hours together, yet the moment always feels timeless. He does most of the talking, her choosing to listen as she watches the river’s movements. No one ever comes by and she’s starting to wonder if anyone else knows about this place. It makes it special to them, though. It’s become the escape she so desperately craves. And every evening when their time comes to an end, they bid goodbye, promise to see each other the following day and Betty walks away feeling lighter than before.

–

Several weeks pass of daily meetings. Some days are better than others for Betty, but she manages to hold it together for Jughead’s sake. She knows he’s going through a lot and she doesn’t want to add to it with her problems, even though she’s sure he’d be nothing but supportive and understanding. He continues confiding in her, gaining her trust, and she helps him as much as possible. He never misses a day and they even meet up on weekends, both happy to get out of their respective home situations. 

He never misses a day, until today. 

It’s a normal Thursday after school at their usual meeting time. Betty arrives at the bench with a bag full of snacks to share with Jughead. She had a relatively uneventful day at school, but her mother had started at her when she got home. Again, it was about her father - Betty still didn’t understand why it’s her fault that he’s moved prisons, but she’s learnt not to question it. She finally feels ready to open up to Jughead and plans on doing so tonight, but he isn’t there. 

She waits. And waits. 

No one is around, like always, except this time she’s looking for a sign of him. It doesn’t come. He’s nowhere to be seen.

Betty begins to panic. 

She has no way of contacting him - they decided not to exchange numbers as Betty’s mom likes to randomly check her phone, but now she wishes she would’ve cared a little less. 

She waits for a total of three hours. As the sun begins to set, she reluctantly starts heading home. 

On the familiar walk home, worry tries to drown her. She has nothing left to fight it, or think about it logically, so she lets it overtake her brain. 

_Where is he? What happened? Why didn’t he turn up? Is he okay? Is he still_ alive _?_

The last question haunts her. Her mother had told her that the Serpents were dangerous - what if this was the one thing she hadn’t lied about? Maybe they’d hurt him for not joining.

Or maybe he just didn’t want to see her anymore. 

That thought is the one that bothers her the most.

That night, she lays awake thinking of him. It isn’t the first time she’s done this, but this time it’s under upsetting circumstances instead. She hopes to the God she doesn’t really believe in that he’s okay, that nothing too bad happened, that he still wants to see her. 

She spends most of the night awake worrying, barely sleeping. Luckily, her mom isn’t up in the morning when she begrudgingly drags herself out of bed and off to school. There’s nothing she wants more than to walk to the bridge and see him waiting for her, but skipping school means her mom would find out and that’d mean more shouting, so she goes. 

Her day is one of the worse ones. Already feeling anxious, the school environment intensifies that. There are stares and comments, and by lunch break, Betty finds herself hiding in the bathroom, crying quietly.

In biology class, she sits alone. As always. Her teacher, usually a relatively harmless one, picks on her to answer all of the questions, even making a comment about one of her father’s victims. Betty runs out of that class, bumping into the principle. Mr Honey insists that he takes her to his office, and she isn’t one to protest, so she follows. He asks her about what happened and she tells him the truth. He nods, taking everything in. She asks him not to tell her mom and he reluctantly agrees, but tells her to go back to him if this persists and to go home now - fifteen minutes early. Ever the polite, she thanks him with a smile and leaves. 

On her way out of school, she feels slightly better, until she remembers the situation with Jughead. In a split decision, she takes a right out of school towards the road that leads her to the river, rather than the left that’d take her home. 

The route from school to the river is slightly different and longer than from home. Betty finds it less comforting in the unfamiliar surroundings, so as soon as she sees the river and path that leads to the bridge, her nerves subside. The sun beams down on her and she watches it make specks of the water sparkle. It reminds her of the first day she came here, the first time she saw him. She remembers not wanting anyone to ruin her moment alone, but as soon as he sat next to her, she no longer minded. 

Now, she wishes that he was here more than anything. 

As the bench comes into view, the emptiness hits her. 

She sits down and watches the horizon. She hopes that he’ll come later - she is earlier than usual - but after hours of waiting, he doesn’t show. 

Similar to yesterday, she trudges home to her mother’s shouting, throwing back an off-handed excuse to go up to her room. She lays on her bed, drowning in worry. She doesn’t sleep again that night.

This becomes her routine for the next five nights. 

–

A week without seeing Jughead, Betty thinks about cutting her losses and giving up on going to the bench. She’s been everyday in hope of his return, but he never shows. She feels stupid for being attached to someone she’s only spent a matter of hours with. Deep down, she knows it isn’t stupid, that he understands her more than anymore, that _he_ is her escape. So she keeps going back. She can’t give up on him that easily.

  
It’s the second Saturday without him. It’s the day they usually spend the longest together, neither having much else to do. Betty takes herself off to the river after her mother shouts at her - something about Polly this time. 

The sun isn’t out today. The grey sky, reflecting Betty’s mood, doesn’t give her the comfort she needs. As always, the walk is pleasant, but there’s something underlying that doesn’t allow her to enjoy it. It’s worry mixed with sadness and drenched in exhaustion. She feels as if nothing will fix it, fix _her_ , if it’s not him. Perhaps, in a way, it’s true.

She sits on the almost pointedly empty bench. She tries to focus on the water, on the horizon, but she can’t. _How can she when he should be here with her?_ She wonders if she’s being irrational, not taking his hints. In the end, she manages to convince herself that she isn’t. She thinks he must feel at least slightly similar to her.

Eventually, she decides she cannot sit around anymore. With a deep breath, she shakily stands up and takes a few steps to the left. Panic rises within her, but she manages to fight it when she remembers why she’s doing this. Despite knowing better, her mother’s views are difficult to shake off as she continues walking further into the southside, into the unknown. 

At first glance, the other side of the river is no different to the northside. This side of the river is just as pretty - tree-lined, quiet, peaceful. But with every step, Betty notices subtle differences. The road she suspects is the main road in and out of the southside is less well-kept than that of the northside. It’s not as nice as her usual walk, but nonetheless she still finds some comfort in it, and it’s certainly not as bad as her mother made out. 

She walks for a few minutes when she begins to wonder if this is the right thing to do. Maybe she should go home, or even back to the bench. She used to doubting herself, doubting all her actions and decisions, so these thoughts don’t come as a surprise. 

She stops suddenly.

She remembers the first time she walked out on her mom with the sole purpose of wandering to the southside. Now she’s here, it feels wrong. She doesn’t feel as lost as she did back then. And that’s down to him. Walking into _his_ side of the town, without _him_ , feels wrong. The thought of him bring tears to her eyes. 

Knowing she can’t be here without him, she turns back. 

Tears run down her face as she begins the short walk back to the river, back to the bench. She doesn’t make it far - only a few steps - when she hears someone calling her name. 

_Jughead_. 

Spinning around to face where his voice is coming from, she sees him running towards her. Her face breaks out into the biggest smile she’s had all week as she starts running back towards him. 

When they reach each other, he pulls her into a huge hug. She melts into it, so happy that he’s here, that he’s back again. It lasts for a minute or so, and Betty notes that this is their first form of physical contact. (She also notes that she definitely does not want it to be their last.)

She hears him whisper her name, so she pulls back, face still wearing a massive smile. Neither of them say anything, both just equally as happy to be back with one another. He grabs her hand and they start walking back towards the bench. 

During the walk, Jughead tells her about his week, and about where he’s been. He tells her that school rang his mom in Toledo to tell her that he’s been living alone, so she turned up unannounced. She told him to pack up his things, that she’s taking him back with her, that he can start over again away from Riverdale. He refused over and over, so much so that his mother would only let him out to go to school, which is why he couldn’t get to the bench. Eventually, his mom left, telling school that a family friend was staying with him just to keep them off their backs. So he can still stay alone; he can still stay in town. 

She listens, feeling sad for him, but happy that he’s staying, that he’s _back_. Once they reach the bench, they sit together, connected hands going unmentioned. After he finishes his story, she proceeds to tell him about her week - equally as bad, in a different way. 

Some time passes as they sit in a comfortable silence, both enjoying each other’s company and the view of the lake once again. Betty risks moving closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Luckily, Jughead doesn’t seem to mind, simply squeezing her hand gently. She feels like she can finally relax, like she’s _home_. 

So quietly she isn’t even sure he hears, she tells him that she missed him this past week, that she’s happy he’s back. When he doesn’t respond, she decides it’s for the best - he doesn’t need her being unnecessarily sappy on top of everything from the past week - and then he moves away from her and she begins to worry. She snaps her head up and tries to move her hand out of his, but he grips it tighter. Concern floods her face, yet his is showing only affection and happiness. She focuses on that, on his smile, on his _beautiful_ smile. He brings his spare hand up to cup her face, rubbing slightly as an attempt to comfort her. Allowing her eyes to meet his questioning look, she thinks she finally understands. She nods slightly and that’s when it happens. He starts leaning in and so does she. Their lips meet in the middle in a gentle kiss. It’s soft and sweet and _perfect._

Betty feels truly happy for the first time. And in that moment, she realises that she’s found her escape. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this started as an anti-alice fic but somehow turned into this. i challenged myself to write a dialogue-less piece too, which was fun task. i'm really happy with how this turned out and i really hope you enjoyed it. thank you for reading!


End file.
